Amen

Most pathetic email in a long time came from someone named Jessup, who was – I think – trying to antagonize me, by noting that I was posting on religion and “fluff” (I guess that would be the Prom Queen With Down Syndrome story) because I knew “my guy” was beat and the election was over, and therefore I was falling back on religion, my “crutch” because that’s what stupid people like me need, a crutch.

That was the gist of it, anyway.

Except that McCain is not especially “my guy” and I’ve come to the conclusion that what I really want this election is to see the mainstream media defeated, more than anything else, so I’m not looking at anything as a done; they may fully defeat themselves, yet. Things turn on dimes, don’tcha know.

More importantly, for whatever reason – and I think it has to do with the prayer and fasting, which I am doing not for a “win” but for the “good” of my country – I feel, deep down, incredibly good and unusually peaceful.

Being stupid, I know almost nothing, but I do know that the fasting is a good thing, and it is having a positive effect in my own life, in my spirit. If that is all that comes from it, I will feel completely blessed.

You guys need to lighten up. As I’ve noted before, even when you perceive yourself as “winning,” you’re always so damned miserable. I noticed that in 2006. The left won and seemed just as unhappy and discontented as they’d been for the previous 6 years. You’ve had control of congress for two years (and that’s been fun for all of us, btw) but you’re still…miserable.

Right now, you’re just downright curmudgeonly. When I’m writing about politics, I’m stupid. When I’m not writing on politics, I’m stupid.

Well, okay, you got me, sheriff, I’m not a rocket scientist. I already knew that, and have no illusions about my meager gifts. But I must say I never waste my time reading anyone I think of as stupid, so I don’t know why you’re reading me.

And, stupid as I am, at least I have no burning need to write to someone else – anyone else – on the internet to tell them that I think they’re stupid, and I’m smart. So, I guess that’s something.

Today, if I had to choose between being me, with my “losing guy” and my “crutch,” and being you, with your 8th grade textbooks already spinning 15 pages (!) on The Lord Obama, and his self-reverencing blue shields and gold-plated coins and his mothership off Easter Island (the message was garbled; the spacemen were saying “Obama” not “Alabama!”), I’d choose being me. I bet I feel better than you do, right now.

Must be that opiate of the masses. I know in whom I have believed. Do you, really?

Of course, Treacher seems to feel fine, too, so maybe it’s not the opiate.

I think it’s freaking you out that I’m not freaked out, Jessup. Deal with it.